


Blue Screens are a Girl's Best Friend

by Astr



Series: Technotics and Heavenly Bodies [1]
Category: Hyperdrive - Web Series
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Neil is a dick but what else is new, Pining, Vaginal Sex, poor Stella this is only the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25651657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astr/pseuds/Astr
Summary: After another rejection from Luna, his idol, his goddess, Neil needs a fucking drink. Stella happens to be there, and warm, and willing.Be warned: this isn't a love story.
Relationships: Neil (Hyperdrive)/ Stella (Hyperdrive)
Series: Technotics and Heavenly Bodies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875853
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Blue Screens are a Girl's Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic for my friend Allie, from her upcoming series Hyperdrive!  
> Check out her Hyperdrive works here:  
> http://rad-infiniitum.tumblr.com

He was just never good enough, was he? His whole life, Neil had felt the manic anger of inferiority. Never tall enough, never handsome enough, never anything enough. He was so fucking done.

He wouldn't give up on Luna, not till his dying day, but he had to take a break before he did something they would both regret. In the darkest hours he stole away to a club, lesser known, lesser populated, somewhere he could get absolutely hammered if he wanted. Where he could leave Blue Screen at home and no one would be bothered to care. Not so long as he paid his tab.

But of fucking course it was a show night. Of course. He just couldn't fucking win. Whatever. Whatever. He could get in, get plastered, stagger home, no one would be the wiser. It was fine. Fine. Fine. He could do this. He needed to do this.

The singer was new, he guessed, because for a show night, there weren't a lot of people. Good. He hated people. He started with an appletini, extra sour, extra 'tini. He didn't give a shit if the drink was "girly." It tasted fine and got him closer to that sweet, sweet careless delirium. He quickly saw why the club was slow for a weekend.

The singer came out, a tall, chubby thing, covered in a coat or something, with thick thighs, thick arms, thick everything, and looked nervous as shit. Honestly he almost felt bad for her. If he felt bad for anyone ever. Not really. Whatever. 

Whatever. 

He was just getting buzzed. Never mind her feathery fur thing whatever around her neck looked enticingly like Luna fluff. Never mind that her height was just so. Her hair just so. She was just a fucking human. Whatever.

She opened her mouth, and her voice wasn't grating. Fine. It was fine.

" _ The French are glad to die for love… _ " she began, and his brain idly recognized it as something from the sex icon of the mid 20th century. Sure, sweetie, you try and sing that song with that body. Whatever.

Whatever.

Another fruity drink, absinthe infused, sending him closer.

Then she started stripping. What the fuck? What? With that body? No fucking way. He almost had to admire the pathetic thing. Never mind she started to grow confidence as she did. Never mind she knew how to move that body of hers to tease. Something in him idly wondered what it would feel like to… what was it? Ah, yes, "motorboat" her. She looked soft.

Luna was soft too.

And a girl like this, soft or not, couldn't be picky, he reasoned.

Maybe it was the alcohol frying his systems. Maybe it was the loneliness.

Whatever.

Whatever.

Maybe he'd take her home, get his edge off (maybe make Luna jealous? Oh wouldn't that be a fucking trip).

He was due one semi-charitable act for the year. Might as well be this thing.

She stopped singing (she had good, strong lungs, he thought) and there was a smattering of applause. Totally pity, but it made her smile. A Luna smile, maybe, if he squinted.

He bought her a drink. She took a tropical thing, some pineapple shit that flushed her cheeks. Pink. Luna pink.

Whatever.

Whatever.

She thanked him. He flirted. He was a master at it, having watched just about every trite, banal romantic comedy bullshit he could find. Stuff made by females, since that demonstrated what they valued. She flushed more.

The tops of those huge breasts got rosey too.

Whatever.

Soon she was smiling. A genuine thing. Poor human probably never had a man look her way with anything more than pity, he figured. Whatever.

"Oh, and what's your name, sweetheart?" Fuck he sounded suave. A regular Clooney.

"Oh, I'm Stella. Just Stella." Maybe it was fake. Was she smart enough to give a fake?

"Oh that's pretty," he complimented. It was. Stella. Not Luna, but appropriate enough. He could use the stars while he waited for the moon. Almost poetic really.

Whatever.

"Have any plans, lovely Stella?"

"No, I'm not the planning type." Oh was that a flirt? Was she flirting back? Or well, were her words flirting, since her body was obviously into him. Feet pointed towards him, body leaning in, eyes dilated ever so slightly more than what he judged normal.

Hook, line, fucking sinker.

He got her back to his place, and soon his blue hands were dancing on her skin. Warm. Cozy. Soft. Was Luna soft too? She would have to be. This wasn't horrible though.

The girl's top came off. Her breasts were dusky. Did Luna have nipples? Would she gasp and sigh if he kissed them, pinched them? This girl - Stella, he dully remembered - did. Her voice was nice. Not Luna, but nice.

Whatever.

She let him motorboat her, made her giggle, made him heady. Her blush went further down, past her chubby belly, beneath her underthings ("panties" - a fucking dumb word). 

She was soft there too. Fuzzy. Was Luna- whatever. What-fucking-ever. He was hard now, and he wanted to taste the spoils of his charming manipulation.

She was taller than him but she was still hot and tight. Fuck. Was Luna-

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

He was an animal, a wolf devouring his prey, using this not-Luna-human-chubby-whatever however the fuck he wanted. Her voice was cute. Cuter now, whimpering his name.

She didn't even beg him not to come inside. What a fucking treat. Would-

Whatever. Fuck it.

He emptied himself (totally more than expected, what a fucking stud he was) inside her, hot, slick, sweaty, sticky, all kinds of gross bullshit that he never would have thought he would be into. But he was drunk.

Whatever.

Whatever.

Did she come? Probably. He didn't know. Too tired to care, exhausted after his efforts.

Maybe he'd string this human along.

Use the stars till he got his moon. Still fucking clever as hell.

Whatever.

What-fucking-ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, as always, for reading! Kudos and Comments always very much appreciated.
> 
> Also, seriously, go check out Allie and Hyperdrive! It's awesome!


End file.
